


Checking In

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Bonding, Breaking and Entering, Bruce being a dad, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff, Gen, Siblings, his kids worrying, sibling hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9567794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Bruce was in Spain, on a business trip not hunting down a criminal organization, meaning Dick had no reason to worry. Except he hadn't been in contact with Dick. Or Damian. Or Tim. Or Jason. And he'd made a habit of checking in once a day. Maybe Dick was worried, and maybe his other siblings were too, so could he really be blamed when somehow all four of them ended up being prosecuted for breaking and entering?





	

The text arrived while Dick was at work. He was typing up a report and his eyes had started to glaze over from staring at the screen too long when his phone buzzed on the wood. It rattled his coffee cup, spoon still in and now jingling. The noise made him jump, his hand splaying over the phone to settle its shockwaves, before scooping it up.

It was from Bruce and contained a picture of a stick figure that was attempting to look threatening, with a finger thrust out toward the screen. It was obviously a father, with its tie and balding hair. Above him, in a speech bubble were the words: _Whoever stole my copy of Microsoft Office I will find you…You have my Word._  

Dick snorted and tried to hold back a further giggle, but the pun pulled it out of him after only a few moments of resistance. His laugh caused a few heads to turn and he had to put a hand over his mouth to stifle the giggles.

He sent back: _Good one B._ It was even better than Bruce’s joke from the day before about Tim being in prison and ‘breaking out’. All over his face had been the punchline. It took Dick a moment to connect the two, and when he did he’d had to step out to contain both his laughter at the joke, and his continued laughing at the image of Tim with zits all over his face.

He went to tuck it into his desk drawer, but a hand stopped him. It was Joe one of the guys who’d looked over. “Nah-uh. What was so funny, Grayson?”

Dick flipped the phone over and pulled the text back up. Joe looked over it and cracked a smile. “From your dad?” he asked.

Dick smiled. “Yeah, it’s kind of his thing.”

* * *

 

Jason was fumbling for his phone charger at four in the morning, when his phone buzzed in his hand. His stint of patrol had ended half an hour earlier and he was ready to pass out, just not before he plugged his phone in. He didn’t want to wake up to a dead device and fourteen missed messages from Tim gradually panicking about his lack of communication. Of all his brothers, Tim could work himself up the most when it came to checking in on him.

He ignored the buzzing until he found the charger and plugged it in. He flopped onto the bed, on his back, and held the phone above his face, the blue glow sure to keep him up for another half hour if he let it.

The message on the screen brought a small smile to his face. Tired as he was, he was happy he’d checked it. Six words were all he’d gotten, and they were all he needed: _Good job tonight. Get some rest._

He shook his head, he’d seen Bruce for maybe twenty minutes over the whole of patrol. They’d come together over a drug deal both had been tracking. It was an easy take down, made easier by having both Batman and Red Hood there. Still, the words warmed him as he dropped the phone onto his nightstand and rolled under his blankets. The old man was still trying to tuck him in, even long after he was out of the manor. Tonight he figured he’d let him.

* * *

Things were running nonstop. Tim couldn’t remember if he’d sat down or not after coming into work. Some days at Wayne Enterprises everything felt slow, other days Tim never stopped moving. He’d work through breaks, lunches, even the gentle pressure of his peers to stop for a granola bar were ignored.

It was turning out to be that kind of day, it made sense. He’d been preparing for months for the meeting with W.E.’s Chinese sector and the meeting was a day away. Tim was in a flurry to make sure everything was perfect. Charts, graphs, numbers, the meeting room. Nothing was too big or too small for his eyes.

He’d even checked the water bottles that had been ordered for the meeting, wanting to make sure they were the right brand. He’d researched the most popular Chinese brands and had them sent over.

Through it all he felt like he was going to pass out. He’d had One, maybe two, cups of coffee that day and nothing to eat, and that was after showing up almost straight after patrol. Alfred had been the only thing keeping him from going directly to the office when he’d dropped by to change.

He’d slept two hours then left for the office.

He was stopped, mid direction to one of his secretaries, by his phone going off, blasting Head Full of Doubt loud enough for half the office to hear. He’d left the sound on so he could tell who was calling before he checked the phone, and thus discount what wasn’t important. 

Tim waved off worried looks and mouthed _Bruce._ Then he slipped the phone from his pocket and checked the message, his heart beat accelerating at the thought that something had gone wrong, that the Chinese had cancelled.

_Kathy ordered your favorite coffee for the break room, take a break. Tomorrow will be fine._

At the sight of it, everything in Tim stilled. Yes, he still had things to worry about, plans to check, and a day to obsess over, but he wasn’t as panicked. The reminder warmed him from the inside and was all he needed to send the flock of people around him away and hunt down the break room.

As he sipped on hot coffee, the ceramic mug a comforting weight in his hand, he shot Bruce a reply, no words of thanks or reminders of Bruce needing to be there tomorrow, just a selfie of him grinning with his coffee.

* * *

Damian scowled at the textbook that lay open in front of him before leaning back into Titus. His dog had curled up behind him, a warm weight to the contrasting cold homework before him. He’d been at it for over an hour, scribbling out numbers and their ‘full solution’ in his notebook. Numbers he’d been able to do in his head since he was four.

He had no idea why Pennyworth had him on a curriculum so far beneath what he’d already learned. Some of his studies were advanced, literature and science, but Alfred had insisted on starting him with the ‘basics’ of math to ensure he had a good foundation.

Damian huffed, he had more of a foundation than anyone his age, yet there the numbers were before him, waiting to be solved. He sighed and picked his pencil back up, if he completed them right maybe Alfred would let him move onto more difficult problems.

Titus shifted and Damian reached back to scratch the dog’s head between his ears, hope or not, he was still bored. He wanted something else to focus on, but there wasn’t a lot he could do that wouldn’t take his attention fully away from the problems.

Beside him his phone jumped to life, buzzing in the pattern of a heartbeat. Father, perhaps he needed Damian. He flipped the phone over to view it’s screen and frowned, it wasn’t so much a message from Father but a link.

 _Thought you’d like something to mix up your usual playlist._ Read the caption below it. Damian scrambled for his headphones, left forgotten on his nightstand, and plugged them in before pulling up the playlist.

He thought about scanning the list of songs on the list, but chose to put it off. If Father believed he’d enjoy them, he’d like to go in blind and see for himself. The first song started with drumbeats and the first few strains of guitar music and Damian smiled.

Now maybe he could get some work done.

* * *

Dick hadn’t heard from Bruce in a few days. Normally he’d be fine with that, put it off as B getting busy and forgetting to communicate. It happened. This time however, there were two things stopping him from letting Bruce’s forgetfulness slide. The first was that Bruce was in Spain on a business trip, and aside from a cryptic message on his answering machine from him: “ _Made it to Spain. See you in a week_.” he’d heard nothing from the man. Dick didn’t want to worry, but he knew Bruce. Relaxed Bruce left at least a few more details in a message. Tense, secretive Bruce left short, succinct messages.   

The second reason was Damian. The boy was currently sitting on Dick’s couch attempting to read a book. He’d get a few lines in and check his phone before dropping it back onto the couch to try and read then repeating the whole process a moment later. He’d come over the day Bruce left for Spain, claiming it was so he could ‘keep patrolling’ but Dick knew better. He was sure Damian missed hanging out with him as much as Dick missed being with him.

Damian had been fine the first few days with Dick. Happy to follow Dick around, join him at the community center, and patrol next to him. Today he was anxious, with his phone close by as if he was waiting for bad news to call. If it were Tim, Dick would understand, but Damian didn’t get nervous, at least not outwardly.

Dick snagged two bananas from the counter and took the cushion next to Damian, holding one out to his brother. The boy took it with one hand, the other flipping his phone over to check the screen.

“What’s got you so distracted?” Dick asked breaking open the top of his banana.

Damian frowned, peeling his own fruit. “Father should have texted by now.”

Dick leaned back, and took a thoughtful bite. “Well,” He said after swallowing, “he did call us when he got to his hotel.” At least Dick assumed that was the number Bruce had called from. Caller I.D. had listed a number Dick didn’t recognize, and he could see little reason Bruce would call him from anywhere but his hotel when he arrived.

His brother pursed his lips, eyes still on his phone. “A call is not a text. He promised.” Damian pushed his phone away from him and bit into his banana with vehemence, taking three bites in a row.

He could claim Bruce was just busy, or that he’d forgotten, but he wasn’t convinced of either of those options. Damian was also aware of his father’s bad habits. He’d have already thought over those options, and had still decided to be bothered by the missing message.

Damian finished half the banana before he turned to Dick. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

He shook his head and Damian’s frown deepened. “I called Pennyworth this morning.” Damian said.

Dick couldn’t stop his eyebrows from rising in surprise. If Damian had called Alfred he had to be worried. “Has he talked to Bruce?”

“He hasn’t heard from him at all.”

“You know,” Dick said, standing. “It’s been forever since I’ve been in Spain. I hope my Spanish isn’t too rusty" 

* * *

 

They ran into Tim while getting on the plane. Dick suspected Alfred of being the cause. Dick called him to get Bruce’s address and Alfred had offered to purchase their tickets for them while Dick and Damian packed. It would be just like him to have put all three worried brothers together.

Tim was just as surprised to see them take the two seats beside him, his brows crinkling in a frown. Before he could ask what they were doing Dick was already answering with a question of his own.

“Bruce didn’t message you either?”

Tim shook his head, pulling his laptop bag away from the middle seat so Dick could sit. Damian took the aisle and frowned over at him. “I could have told you that, Grayson.”

“You called Tim too?” Dick asked, his head turning to Damian a moment before it turned back to Tim who was talking again.

“It’s what tipped me over the edge, B not calling me makes sense. I’d nag him. But when Damian called me of all people,” he shrugged. “It set off warning bells.”

They were in the air when Tim brought it up again. He’d spent most of takeoff reading through a stack of papers he’d brought with him, then working on his computer. Dick and Damian were sharing earphones, Dick having pulled up a funny video on his phone.

Tim’s tap on Dick’s shoulder had him pausing the video and turning to his brother, Damian leaning over to scowl, either at Tim or the fact that their entertainment had been postponed. Now that they were actively going after Bruce Damian seemed more relaxed. His phone hadn’t made an appearance since Dick’s announcement, and he was less fidgety.

“You don’t think he was trying to tell us something, with that message he sent do you?” Tim asked.

“What message?” Damian asked.

“The phone call, that he made it to Spain.” Tim clarified. “I analyzed it for clues, isolating the background noise to try and pin his location, then I tried to see if his words were a code, maybe he’d picked a cipher or—”

Dick cut him off, holding up his hand to cut off the stem of worry. “I don’t think he hid something in his words. If, and I mean _if_ , anything happened he probably meant the message as something to keep us from following him. No message would have been worse than what we got.”

Tim nodded. “You’re right. I thought about calling the hotel, you know.”

Dick realized with a start that calling the hotel would have been a very good idea. He’d jumped right past common sense to ‘Bruce is in need of help’. What did that say about Bruce, or Dick himself?

“But, I thought if Bruce had gotten caught up in something dangerous it might compromise him in some way. I figured checking the place out would be the better idea.”

And Tim. Dick needed to add Tim to his list of people to worry about. If he were being honest, his whole family needed to be on the list. What normal family panicked this much when they hadn’t heard from their father in a few days, as he was on a _business trip_? Then again, they weren’t exactly normal.

They arrived in Madrid with no problems and found their way to Bruce’s hotel with ease. Dick’s Spanish was rusty, but Tim’s was not. Even without knowing the language they could have made it to where Bruce was staying, he was there on company business, which meant he’d be staying somewhere nice and easy for tourists to get to.

The Gran Meliá Fénix was within walking distance of the Prado museum, and gorgeous to look at when they walked in. The elevator ride up to Bruce’s floor was long enough that Dick started to feel nervous. Not from the height, but from what they might find. He kept telling himself that everything was going to be alright, that Bruce was fine, and this was all a misunderstanding, but none of that did anything to stop the butterflies in his stomach, not when he was surrounded by two equally worried brothers.

Dick was prepared for just about anything as they got off the elevator and walked down the hall. The one thing he wasn’t prepared for was finding Jason crouched outside Bruce’s door, punching numbers into a small device in his hand that he’d connected to the door’s card reader.

He glanced up at the sound of footsteps, his body tense and ready to run. Instead of bolting his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “What _are_ you three doing here?”

“We could ask you the same thing.” Dick raised an eyebrow at him.

Jason sat back on his heels and glared at the card reader. “Bruce.” He grumbled.  

“What made you worried about Bruce? It wasn’t Damian, was it?” Tim asked.

Jason shook his head. “The Demon Brat? No, I—” he broke off, unsure of how to continue. “B’s been texting me. Once a day, every day, up until he left for this trip.” He shrugged. “I got worried, what got you three so worked up?”

Damian shifted his weight to his other foot and nodded. “The same thing. Father hasn’t missed sending me a message until this trip.”

Bruce must have been messaging them all, Dick realized. In some kind of attempt to keep in touch or reach out he’d been texting all his boys. He wanted to smile at the thought, but at the same time it worried him. If Bruce had been reaching out to all them, and he’d stopped communicating now, had it been a sort of strange attempt at reconciliation before he got into a situation he might not come out of? Dick didn’t put it past Bruce to try something like that.

There was only one way to find out. He closed the distance between him and Jason and took the device from his brother’s hand. “No wonder it wasn’t working, you’ve got it connected wrong.”

He readjusted the wires and started punching in numbers, feeling more than seeing Tim and Damian approach. Every wrong entry Tim would give him an option and Damian’s frown would deepen. Dick tried to keep an eye on the hallway, but he was also trying to keep all the number combinations straight in his head, so he left the lookout to someone else.

Which is why ten minutes into their break-in attempt a porter found them and called security. As they were escorted down to the security office Dick almost hoped Bruce was somewhere else. He knew he’d be the one explaining why Bruce’s four children had been caught breaking into his hotel room, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

The security office was too small to keep them all in, so the officers put them in an unused room on the ground floor while each waited to be questioned. Dick had a moment of panic when they attempted to separate the four of them, he did his best to hold onto Damian, the kid was too young to be alone in a foreign country without him. He didn’t care how often Damian had done it before, or what his upbringing was. He’d bet his collectable edition of Robin Hood that Damian had never been incarcerated in a foreign country before.

Through his shaky Spanish, made worse with nerves, he managed to convince them to leave Damian with him and soon the two were seated next to each other on the room’s single bed

“Tt. What a mess.” Damian said, kicking his feet against the end of the bed. 

“Yeah.” Dick sighed. “Sorry your wrapped up in this.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s fine. I’d have come even if you didn’t accompany me. It’s better that we’re all here.”

Dick smiled. It was. It had been a long time since all four of them had done anything together, and even if their outing was turning to the catastrophic Dick was happy for it. It had taught him a few things already, mainly that his family was one that loved each other.

It could be hard to remember, especially when Bruce was short with them. Or when Jason refused to come home. Or when Tim and Damian fought like the worst of enemies. But it was there, in the way they’d all shown up to find Bruce, and how they’d clumped together when they’d been caught. Even in how Tim had chimed in to help Dick convince the guard to let Damian stay with Dick.

“What’s going to happen now?” Damian asked.

Now Dick shrugged. “Not sure. We did get caught breaking into the room of the hotel’s current superstar. I doubt it’ll be a slap on the hand.”

“Unless Father arrives.”

Dick nodded. “Yeah.” He grimaced. “If he doesn’t someone’s going to have to call Alfred.”

They sat for half an hour before the door opened again, Jason trudging in looking irritated. He muttered something in Spanish at the guard, Dick thought it might have been a curse, before the door snapped shut again.

He flopped onto the bed on his back and groaned. “They want to press charges.”

“And Bruce?” Dick asked glancing back.

Jason’s hair flopped against the bedspread as he shook his head. “Who knows. They wouldn’t tell me squat about him.”

“What about Drake? Where is he?” Damian asked, he’d turned to look at Jason as well, his voice was an attempt at calm that wasn’t fooling either of his older brothers.

Jason looked up at him. “Getting a lawyer apparently. He should be here in a minute.”

“Great, just what we needed. Did he call Al too?” Dick sighed.

Jason’s eyes widened for a moment before he shook his head and fell back again. “Dunno. I hope so. I don’t want to be the one to tell Alfred we’re probably going to Spanish prison.”

“Don’t’ be so cynical, we’ll be fine.” Dick said.

“Maybe the Demon Brat. But the rest of us are old enough to be hauled away no questions asked.”

“But were all Father’s family. Surely they understand that?” Damian said.

Jason propped himself up on his elbow and raised an eyebrow at Damian. “Alright then, I’m defiantly going to Spanish prison. I’m dead remember?” He sighed. “This is all my fault anyway for trying to break in.”

Damian squirmed a bit, shifting until he was sitting cross legged in front of Jason, his face all serious. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll break you out of here if I have to.”

“Hold on a second.” Dick started, but the door opened again turning all three heads to face it.

Dick was expecting to see Tim, instead the guard who’d initially brought them in stood at the door. He beckoned them forward. They followed him with cautious steps, Dick keeping a hand on Damian’s shoulder, more for the comfort of keeping him close than worrying he’d try to keep his word about breaking Jason out.

“Where’s Tim?” Dick asked.

The guard didn’t answer him, so Dick leaned to see around him but caught only the wall and carpet of the hallway. When they re-entered the lobby Dick found Tim first, talking animatedly, with a group of men. From what Dick could see Tim was not having a good conversation.

His hand tightened a little on Damian’s shoulder as they joined the group. He was better at understanding Spanish than speaking it, and kind of wished it was the other way around. The conversation was not going well for them.

“What is going on here?” a bombing voice cut off the angry chatter between Tim and the hotel staff as all eyes turned to the man who’d just entered. Bruce.

He was angry, fists at his side, eyes burning, jaw clenched. His face darkened when he saw his four boys, and darkened still when he caught Dick’s hand on Damian’s shoulder. Dick’s heart fell a little at the sight. He was angry with them for coming, not just that, but for trying to break into his room.

He marched to the guard standing by Dick. “You’ve been detaining my boys.” It wasn’t a question.

“They were trying to break into your room, Mr. Wayne.” The guard said, arms crossed.

“They’re my sons. It was my room. They had every right to be there.”

“So, you’re not pressing charges?” For the first time since Dick had met the man the guard seemed frazzled.

Dick didn’t think Bruce’s face could have gone any redder than it had been, but at this statement it did. “Pressing charges? Why on earth would I press charges?”

The guard shrugged, a half-hearted thing that seemed more like filler for time than uncertainty. “Some people do. Angry investors trying to teach their kids a lesson.”

“If they need a lesson I’ll be the one to give it to them.” Bruce told him.

He motioned to his kids as they stood stunned, mouths dropped open at him. “Now if you don’t mind I’m going to head up to my room, with my children.”

They left the lobby unmolested. This ride up the elevator had Dick even more nervous than his last. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Bruce had been angry at the staff, but was he also angry at them? They _had_ tried to break into his room.

Not a word was said between the five of them until they entered Bruce’s room and he pointed at the large couch in the room. All four boys sat as Bruce faced them. He sighed and sat on the coffee table in front of them.

“So?” he asked.

They were silent for another minute before Damian spoke up, “You didn’t text us, Father.”

Bruce’s tired look changed to confusion. “You flew to Spain, tried to break into my room, and almost got arrested because I didn’t text you?”

“Yes.” Dick said.

With that all four boys started talking at the same time. Dick was trying to explain worrying about Bruce’s lack of communication. Damian was saying something about him having promised. Tim was talking about the cryptic phone call, and Jason was grumbling about the fact that they knew Bruce and had all expected him to have done something stupid, so why on earth didn’t he think they wouldn’t hop a plane to find him?

For his part, Bruce didn’t seem to have any problem understanding them all. He waited out the fountain of information before answering.

“My phone broke on the plane.” He said. “I figured a week was short enough to put off getting one until I got back to Gotham. I’m sorry for the cryptic message, it was three am here when I called, and I’ve been running since.”

He rolled his shirt sleeves up and sighed, looking over them. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Jason crossed his arms. “Sent us into a panic more like. You don’t text a man every day then drop off the face of the earth.”

Bruce smiled. “I was hoping you’d been reading my texts.”

At this Jason’s scowl dropped off into surprise. “I haven’t.”

“Right.” Damian grinned. “You flew to Spain and almost got arrested because you missed ignoring Father’s messages.”

“Shut it squirt, no one asked you.” Jason grumbled, but he was smiling.

Tim leaned forward. “Since we’re already here. Why don’t we just turn it into a family vacation?”

Damian perked up at that, and eyed Bruce as well, using what Dick thought was his puppy dog eyes. Dick made a mental note to teach Damian proper puppy dog eyes, he’d be unstoppable when asking for something.

Bruce hummed and let himself smile. “That’s a possibility. I was thinking of calling you all over here anyway, the nightlife is pretty crazy.” He watched as each of his sons realized what he meant and added. “I hope you all brought your suits.”


End file.
